Attunement
by Chellero
Summary: Reese and Carter navigate through the ups and downs of their unique relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Many thanks to wolfmusic218 for the beta and the cheerleadin'-like-she's-gettin'-paid-to-do-it. :)**

"Shoot." Carter searched in vain through the weaponry in the glove compartment and closed it before picking her purse up from the floorboard to rifle through again. "I probably left it at home on the counter."

Reese turned his head briefly as he drove. "You want to go back and get it?"

"No, it's okay."

"You sure? We just left."

"No. I'll give it to her later."

Letting the issue drop, Reese continued driving. They were en route to Carter's mother's house for a small birthday gathering, and apparently they'd forgotten the earrings she'd gotten for her mother as a gift.

The sun was setting rapidly as they drove through relatively light traffic. Always aware of his surroundings, Reese found himself spending more and more time looking in the rear view mirror the further he drove. He wasn't entirely sure yet but there was a dark sedan—probably a Buick—that appeared to be going to the same place they were. It happened often enough. Coincidences, nothing more. But he and coincidences weren't really good friends.

Even though they needed to go straight through the upcoming light, Reese hit the turn signal to make a left and steered the car into the turn lane.

"What are you doing?" Carter dropped her purse back to the floor and turned to him.

The car turned with them. There were definitely two males in the front, and since he didn't get along well with coincidences, Reese put himself on alert, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and plotting his next move. "It looks like a couple of guys want to invite themselves to your mother's party."

She followed his line of sight to the rear view mirror and instinctively turned around in her seat to look out the back window. "That Buick?"

Reese again looked at the rear view mirror. "Yes."

"Damn," Carter sighed. This was definitely not the time. Definitely not the place. Who the hell was after John now? What was he working on? Whenever something like this went down, she always questioned her decision to be with him. She wasn't proud of it but it was what it was; she couldn't always control her thoughts. But, they were a unit now, stuck together, bonded for life.

They came upon a strip of storefronts with on-street parking. Reese pulled the vehicle over and they both watched as the suspicious car pulled over four or five cars back. He silently cursed the darkness for hindering his ability to see into the vehicle and determine how many people he was dealing with. No matter. He'd know soon enough.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned across Carter to get a gun from the glove compartment. He leaned forward in his seat and placed the weapon at the small of his back underneath his polo shirt. "I'm going to go say 'hi.'" He added unnecessarily, "Stay here."

Carter watched as he got out of the car and rounded it, walking casually into the coffee shop. She looked into the side mirror to see where John would come out and her heart began racing. Immediately, two figures exited the vehicle on opposite sides and started heading her way. _Shit._ She reached into the glove box and retrieved the other small handgun. Her considered options rapidly expanded before quickly dwindling. She had one gun and two armed men closing in on each side of her car. Pedestrian activity was light but these guys obviously didn't care that there were still people around. Her decision made, she climbed into the driver's seat, the motor still running, and looked into the rear view mirror again. John was probably just making it out the back of the shop but her time was up. She took the car out of park and peeled off.

"Dammit!" She thought she'd have more of a head start if they had to run back to their car to come after her. But the car they'd abandoned had a driver behind the wheel and quickly pulled out of its spot, stopping to pick up the other two, before coming after her. So, not only was she dealing with at least three people, they clearly wanted her and not John. The traffic light ahead of her was red and she cursed again. Coming up behind two vehicles stopped at the light, she slowed. She was going to have to drive on the wrong side of the road to get around them and run the light. She went for it, darting between traffic crossing in front of her. _Jesus, why now?_

Her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, she needed to concentrate on weaving through traffic. Her cell phone was in her bag on the floorboard and she cursed John in her mind for deciding to take this car where her bluetooth was not connected. She was going too fast to take her eyes off the road to get it, and she didn't have time to think about why she was being targeted. She just needed to get away and not get into a wreck. She swerved and made a hard right, taking swift glances into the rear view mirror at the vehicle still pursuing her.

* * *

John turned the corner in time to hear tires wailing and fast-moving tail lights in the distance. The Buick was gone. He jogged a few feet, already knowing what else wasn't where he'd left it moments before. His heart clenched in his chest and his face turned glacial as he switched into operative mode, his second skin. He wouldn't panic. He never panicked. He stepped to the closest parked car while taking his phone out of his pocket. A single swipe and press of a button had him calling Joss. Finding the door unlocked, he quickly got inside, putting the phone on speaker before tossing it onto the passenger seat and pulling down the plastic cover beneath the steering wheel. The phone just rang, mocking him, while he hotwired the car. He was pulling away from the curb in seconds.

* * *

Carter heard her phone ringing incessantly. It frazzled her nerves and she tried to reach for it, jerking back up when she heard gunshots. _No. No no no no no._ They rang out, ricocheting off the car's metal frame. "Go! Move out of the way!" she yelled helplessly, pointlessly at the cars blocking her path. She clipped a car as she maneuvered around it, barely avoiding sideswiping another as she ran through an intersection. This wasn't working. She couldn't shake them and they were shooting at the car. She couldn't have a wreck at this speed. She couldn't have them shooting into the car.

* * *

One hand on the steering wheel, Reese drove with little direction while he held his phone in front of him, speaker still on, and waited for Finch to answer. His eyes searched in front of him, down every intersection he passed. He wouldn't panic. He would not panic. "Finch. Track Carter's phone. Now."

Finch immediately sat up from his couch, on alert instantly.

"Someone's after her and I lost her. She was driving south on Delway." He tried to wait patiently, knowing the computer whiz would get him what he needed as soon as was humanly possible.

His laptop on his coffee table, always on, Finch moved the mouse and went to work without preamble. He found Carter's location as well as Reese's. "Okay, John. Sending her coordinates to your phone now." A couple of keystrokes and a click of the mouse and it was done. "Her phone is no longer moving. Three minutes should get you there."

John looked at the map on his phone and listened to the verbal instructions being given. She was stopped somewhere and she'd gotten far fast. His heart rate was beginning to crescendo out of his control. But he could not panic. He couldn't.

* * *

Carter heard more gunfire and realized they were shooting at the tires, not into the car. They weren't trying to kill her, not yet anyway. They wanted something from her. She made another wild right, backtracking and going in circles a bit, trying not to get too far from where she'd left John because she knew he was coming. But, again, her time was up. Horns blared as she ran yet another intersection. This was it. She couldn't risk it any longer. They only wanted her. Another right took her down an alley. A single streetlamp at the outlet lit the path and she stopped the vehicle. Ten seconds later, the other car screamed into the alley behind her and two of the men jumped out.

Not wanting to give them any reason to open fire, she opened the driver's side door and stepped out slowly, hands up and in plain sight. She tried to move toward them, not wanting them to approach the car. But one of them was on her in seconds, yelling at her not to move, and slamming her against the car, immobilizing her while zip tying her hands. Her heart dropped when the other approached the opposite side of her car, gun drawn.

"Shit! There's a baby in the backseat."

 _Please. Please no._ Carter pleaded internally. She felt herself being shoved toward their vehicle, anguish written on her face. She almost cried when the man hauling her spoke to his partner. "Leave it. Let's go." Relief flowed through her even while she was being kidnapped. John would find him soon. Her baby would be okay.

* * *

Reese pulled into the abandoned alley and immediately saw his car. He was out of his borrowed transportation in seconds, gun in hand as he approached the driver's side, the door open. He refused to panic even as his body shook with adrenaline and fear. He felt tears burning in the back of his eyes, angry at himself for panicking and terrified at what he would find. Gun drawn, he rounded the trunk and tried to force himself to breathe.

He took in the scene and emotion bludgeoned him before he got himself back under control. A mixture of relief and horror. She was gone. He didn't see any blood, but Joss was gone. Her purse was still on the floorboard and he was sure he'd find her phone inside. A gun was on the front passenger seat and he knew in an instant she'd given herself up to protect their son. He felt his heart breaking before he tucked his gun back into his pants, opened the back door, and climbed into the backseat. He was wound so tightly, he couldn't allow himself to touch the baby's cheek. His touch wouldn't bring comfort. Only bringing his mother back would. In the darkness, he could see the whites of the infant's wide eyes as they searched for his face. He was quiet, though. Quiet and safe.

Reese quickly climbed out of the backseat and into the driver's seat. He put the running vehicle in drive and slowly drove out of the alley, digging his phone out of his pocket. He swallowed the bile in his throat. "Finch. Meet me at the library. She's gone."


	2. Chapter 2

Finch rushed as quickly as he was able into the old library and up the stairs to their secret rendezvous point. The gate was already open and it didn't take him long to see John seated at his desk. The infant car seat on the floor next to the desk unsettled him. He didn't know what had happened but he had hoped Elijah hadn't been present. He walked over to stand next to John, smiling briefly at the baby in greeting. He smiled back behind his pacifier and Finch was struck once again at how happy the child always seemed to be, in such utter contrast to his father on most days.

"I found her." Reese took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his short list of contacts before putting the phone to his ear and turning his body away from the desk slightly. "Gail? Hi, it's John."

Finch listened as John spoke to Joss's mother, still in the dark about what had happened.

"...No, actually. Joss isn't feeling well so we're probably not going to make it...Yeah, she thinks it's something she ate….Yes, ma'a'm, I will….Okay. Happy Birthday….Okay." John took the phone from his ear and turned back to the computer screen, pointing with his finger. "There she is. In the Bronx. Looks like it's a garage."

Finch could tell as much by looking at the screen. "How did you find her? What happened?" Before leaving his home, he'd watched dejectedly as her phone signal aligned with John's on his way to the library.

Reese rose and walked around the corner to his weapons stash. He cursed his casual attire, not replete with numerous pockets nor a jacket to conceal as much as his work attire could. Managing with what he had, he strapped himself and made his way back over to Finch who had taken his vacated seat. "I put trackers on her. The earrings she always wears, her work shoes….Elijah's next as soon as I figure out where to put them." He turned toward the exit and then stopped. "Watch him for me?"

"Of course, Mr. Reese. I'll call Ms. Shaw. Have her meet you there."

"Fusco, too. All hands on deck until I get her back. Bottles are in the diaper bag." He made his way toward the open gate door and was soon out of sight.

* * *

Joss walked warily but evenly beside one of her kidnappers as he gripped her upper arm and led her to the back of a building. The other two followed closely behind, keeping a gun unnecessarily trained on her. Like she'd be able to escape all three. She wasn't John.

She was somewhere in the Bronx. They'd made no effort to conceal where they were taking her. No blindfold, no gag, just zip-tied wrists and a threat to keep her mouth shut. That wasn't altogether a good thing. Were they sure she wasn't going to be leaving so it didn't matter? She forced herself to breathe measuredly and prayed John had made it to Elijah and he was okay. Prayed John and Taylor would be okay without her, if it came to that. She shook those thoughts away as quickly as they came. It wasn't time for that yet. It wasn't over until it was over.

They walked her inside an empty building. She almost rolled her eyes. Typical shady place where typical asshole criminals did their typical dirty deeds.

"Sit down." One of her assailants directed her to a lone chair while another started texting on his phone. It was a waiting game now, she figured.

And that's what they did. She didn't know how much time passed since her hands were tied behind her back, preventing her from checking her watch. But she didn't say a word. Neither did her captors. She and they just sat or stood there looking pissed at one another. She was sure they hadn't appreciated the trouble they'd had to go through to capture her and she was angry because they had. It helped to mask her fear. Not knowing what this was about, not knowing if her baby was safe, having never been kidnapped before, was jangling her nerves.

It felt like forever before things changed. At least thirty long, tortuous minutes, maybe longer, before she looked up and saw the person who was behind her kidnapping. At first she didn't recognize him. She'd only seen his photo. He walked in looking smug, sure of himself. Like he'd done this type of thing before and didn't plan on getting his hands dirty. Nice suit, shoes, haircut. Typical rich white man.

Tom Stacey.

She was investigating the murder of a young college student, and Stacey's son, the victim's ex-boyfriend, was her prime suspect. She knew he'd done it and was close to getting all the hard evidence she needed to put his ass in prison.

She immediately knew what this was about, as well as where his spawn had learned his despicable behavior.

She watched as he stopped about ten feet in front of her.

"Untie her hands. She won't be trying anything."

Outnumbered four to one and completely outgunned, she hated how right he was. One of the trio of kidnappers pulled out a pocketknife, walked behind her as she leaned forward, and sliced through the plastic. She winced a bit as she brought her arms around, and stood up so he wouldn't be looking down on her, using her position to intimidate her. Now that she knew where this was going, the fear began to dissipate.

"This shouldn't take long, Joss."

She bristled at the use of her shortened first name.

"I just need you to do something for me. Simple as that."

"Kidnapping is against the law, _Tom_." She watched as he chuckled and casually placed his hands in his pants' pockets.

"That's funny, Joss, coming from you. You _are_ a detective so you should know the laws better than most. Kidnapping, yes, that's illegal. Like conspiracy, harboring a fugitive…."

"What do you want so I can go home, Tom?"

"An agreement. My son doesn't go down for his crime and you don't go down for yours."

* * *

John hadn't made a sound when he entered the garage, hadn't waited for Shaw or Fusco to arrive either. As it stood now, he wasn't going to need them. He spotted the suited ringleader immediately after seeing Joss on her feet, blessedly unharmed as far as he could tell. The three armed punks would go down first and the suit would answer to him. Since they were armed and closer to Joss than he was, he decided to aim for center mass. Two bullets hit their marks before the third goon could tell where the bullets were coming from. He tried to aim his firearm in Reese's general direction but John's third bullet didn't give him the chance.

Gun trained on Suit, Reese stepped away from his cover and walked steadily toward him. He had his hands raised in surrender, looking slightly nervous now that his hired muscle was no longer able to protect him. As Reese made his way over to stand between Suit and Joss, he glanced at her as she came back from where she'd taken cover when the bullets started flying, quickly gauging her physical and emotional state. She didn't look hurt but she did look surprised to see him. And a little disheartened.

John brought his full attention to the man in front of him who appeared to be regathering his wits. "Five seconds to tell me why you took the lady."

"You mean your wife? _Mrs_ Man-in-the-Suit?"

Reese didn't let his discomfort show on his face. He watched as Suit shrugged.

"She's free to go. We've already come to an understanding."

John was missing something, clearly, and he did not like it. Something that was putting the smug smile on this asshole's face. As badly as his trigger finger itched to exact revenge for his family being endangered, he knew he wasn't in a position to do much without knowing what had transpired between Joss and this guy. Suit obviously knew who he was and who Joss was to him. One or the other was fine. Both was problematic. He now understood her look earlier.

Reese spoke to her in a soft, menacing whisper without taking his eyes away from his new nemesis. "Joss, did he hurt you?"

She managed to contain her sigh, resigned to the fact that John was about to take the time to hurt him regardless of her answer. He was just trying to determine to what degree he would. "No." She thought about her baby being left alone in the car in the dark.

She probably should have lied.

"Good."

She flinched when John slammed his gun into Stacey's gut, followed by a right cross that sent him down. John stomped on him twice, dragged him back up by his expensive lapels, turned him around, and put him in a chokehold while pressing his gun to Stacey's temple. "Come near my family again, you die. No questions asked." Carter jumped when John pushed Stacey away and shot him in the head. Stacey went to the ground again and it was several seconds before she realized the bullet had only grazed him and he was still moving. Barely.

Reese slipped his weapon into his waistband, stepped over a body, and moved quickly toward his wife. He held her close, grateful to have her in his arms safe and sound. "Are you okay?"

She nodded her head against his chest. "Mostly." She pulled back. "How'd you find me?"

"Let's get out of here." He turned and grasped her upper arm, leading her out the way he came in.

"Where's Elijah? He's okay?"

"He's with Finch. He's fine." He tapped his earpiece. "You heard all that, Finch? I've got her. We'll be there in a few."

"Yes, Mr. Reese. I'll redirect Detective Fusco and Ms. Shaw."

"How's our baby?" John asked.

Harold smiled and looked at the infant. "Just fine."

Reese looked up as he saw familiar headlights approach. "Fusco's here." He led Carter over to the approaching vehicle, sincerely appreciative of Fusco's quick arrival to help his kidnapped partner.

Fusco slowed to a stop beside them and rolled down his passenger side window. "You OK, Carter?"

"Yeah." She responded.

"You're late for the party, Lionel." Reese added.

Fusco only smirked at him.

"Meet us at the library." Reese tilted his head toward the garage they'd just vacated. "There's a mess inside you probably don't want to be bothered with." Shifting his grasp from Carter's arm to her waist, he led her across the alley to his car, settling her in the passenger side seat before taking the wheel and driving off.

Carter turned to him. "How'd you find me?"

"I was in the CIA, Joss."

"Oh, I know it. Where is it?"

"Earrings."

She could only shake her head.

"What happened? What did he want?"

Carter worried her bottom lip before she answered. "Case I'm working on. I'm going after his son for killing the son's ex-girlfriend. If I don't play ball, finger someone else, throw the case…." she sighed.

"He's coming after you. Because you're with me."

"He's rich. Owns this company that manufactures custom plastic parts for automated machines. Tom Stacey. Got a lot of connections, including with the Bureau, he says."

Reese's face was grim. They had been careful. Very few people knew who he was, knew about his connection to Joss. So how the hell had this Stacey guy found out? He glanced at her. "You've never seen him before this case?"

Joss shook her head. "No."

He kept his sigh to himself and focused on the road, his thoughts running a mile a minute.

They'd made every effort to prevent his work from touching their personal life together, his past from catching him. That was the name of the game. Prevention. Their contact was professional in front of his persons of interest whenever she was brought into a case. He wore no ring and he kept no photos on his phone. She'd had a life before him and a pregnancy she couldn't hide, so she kept pictures, sometimes wore her rings. In her world, he was her husband in plain sight but in his, she was his hidden wife. Beyond prevention there wasn't much of a contingency. It was insane not to have one but they each knew why. It was too painful to think about.

So how?

Snow, Stanton, Donnelly, Simmons, anyone who knew him and had been out to get him was dead. Elias was a wildcard, but a somewhat honorable one. Saving his life a couple times had at least granted them a warning before he betrayed them. Zoe and Leon weren't problems unless they were threatened. But no one knew of their connections to him so no one would threaten them. Then there were all the people he saved, and those he threatened, shot, beat up, or maimed in the process. They could definitely pick him out of a lineup, but he'd never be in one to begin with. At least not again.

Quinn.

John turned to Joss briefly and voiced his thoughts. "Quinn."

She nodded slowly. "Definitely could be. Both rich. Probably ran in the same circles…..Shit."

Not for the first time, John silently wished he'd had an excuse to murder the son of a bitch while he was still free.

* * *

Carter immediately went to her son as she and Reese entered the library. Fusco had just arrived and was making faces at the baby as he sat in his car seat. The portly detective stepped back and watched as she smiled and picked him up, smothering him with kisses. "Hey baby. You okay? Mommy's so sorry she had to leave you."

"What've you got, Finch?" Reese rounded the desk to peer over Finch's shoulder, knowing his friend had been digging since overhearing his conversation with Carter.

"Not much, Mr. Reese. I'm trying to find a connection between Mr. Stacey and Alonzo Quinn."

"Quinn probably tipped him off, but even if he didn't, we still have a more immediate problem." Reese straightened up and watched as Joss came over to stand on the other side of Finch, holding Elijah at her shoulder.

Fusco stood next to Carter. "Anybody gonna fill me in?"

Reese took up the challenge. "The Dana Mullen homicide your partner is working on."

Fusco nodded in the affirmative and turned to Carter. "You make the ex-boyfriend for it, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Reese resumed his explanation. "His father wants to get him off the hook by threatening to bring back the 'man in a suit' investigation."

Fusco frowned. "How? They closed the book on that, didn't they? Somebody already went down for it and Donnelly ain't talkin.'"

Carter shifted the baby to her other shoulder, rubbing his back as he babbled. "Doesn't matter. All it takes is someone taking a closer look at me and seeing things that don't add up."

John turned to her. "Still won't be able to prove anything. Remember? We covered our tracks before I married you. Finch and I made sure of that." Being caught in the act was the only way he'd go down, and he wouldn't let a mistake like Rikers happen again. Even then, the John Reese who had married Joss Carter only had parking and speeding tickets on his record, making any future arrest a first offense. If he went away, he wouldn't be going away as Donnelly's terrorist or a special task force's elusive "Man in a suit." Carter wouldn't be charged with aiding and abetting or conspiracy or anything more serious. It gave him the peace of mind he needed to be with her, to marry her, and raise their kids together.

Joss shook her head in doubt. "If the feds come around, they're gonna wanna know why you look exactly like Warren who, coincidentally, quit his job and left the country around the time our son was born. You see how it looks? I've been involved since the beginning and now I'm married to Warren's doppelganger. Both your first names are John..." She stopped to take a breath and shook her head again. "Too many coincidences. Plus, they know there's still someone going around with the same MO saving people and your reporter friend Maxine still thinks you're out there. Donnelly was murdered after you were released and they still haven't solved that one yet, and probably think it had something to do with his man-in-a-suit investigation."

Marrying John might not have been wise, and had involved a lot of maneuvering via Finch, but they had been on an acute romantic high and marriage was the end result. After she almost died, her perspective on life changed. His, too. He was there every step of the way during her recovery and she fell in love with him. More in love with him. Her life was spared so she decided to _live_.

They dated in their own way, got to know one another better. Good sex and conversation whenever and wherever they could. She felt alive and happy, felt that inexplicable soulmate connection with him. And since life was short and he wanted to wake up with her every morning he had left as her husband and not just her boyfriend, Finch worked his magic, turned John into a real boy, and she married him. The danger surrounding his job remained a constant presence but it was all she'd ever known with him. It didn't affect her decision; she was used to it. With no one coming after either of them anymore, there was peace and comfort at the start of their new life together. Their version of it anyway.

She sighed, dragging her thoughts back to the present. A lot of this could have been avoided if she'd married John Warren. Love connection made during her interrogation of him and all that. But John had tired of keeping up the time-consuming charade and didn't want to do it with her family and friends for the rest of their lives together. He'd wanted to be himself. A man who knew jack shit about investment banking.

"I agree, Mr. Reese. We need to prevent any and all possible inquiries into Detective Carter-Reese's home life. Even if they can't prove anything, you'll be under a microscope. Any false moves…." He let his voice trail off. "You won't be able to do any work with the numbers, certainly."

John pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he began to pace in front of Finch's desk. "We need to keep Stacey from talking. What are our options? Joss does what he says—"

"Which isn't really an option," she finished for him.

"Right. But it may have to be. For now. Until we get more information." _Until I do what's probably going to need to happen._

"Why don't I just take him out?" Everyone turned to look at Shaw who had been quietly listening the entire time. "Bastard could've gotten a four month old baby hurt by being a little bitch and having his mother kidnapped. Problem solved."

Carter sighed, knowing her spouse was thinking along the same lines. Deciding to ignore Shaw, Joss tried to steer them away from that line of thinking. "If I give the case to someone else, they'll be threatened."

"Yeah," Fusco nodded. "And there'll still be someone out there that knows your secret. He gets you to roll over this time, he'll be back with something else next time."

Carter nodded. "Or he might just send the tip in anyway." She eyed her husband. "John didn't exactly leave him unscathed in that garage. I'm sure he's plenty pissed off."

"We nip it in the bud. One way or the other." Reese refused to look at his wife, instead focusing on Finch.

Finch, being Team Carter, suggested a different approach. "Give me some time to look into matters. Look into his financial situation, see what other unscrupulous activities he's surely involved in. We'll come up with some significant leverage in due time."

Joss walked back over to the car seat, pulling the straps to the side with one hand before placing the baby inside. "I need to get him home, John. You coming now or later?"

"Now." He grabbed the empty bottle Finch had used from the shelf and reached down to grab the diaper bag from the floor, tucking the bottle inside. He peeked into the trash can, seeing a discarded diaper. He didn't smell anything but decided to ask anyway. "Finch?" He nodded toward the trash can. "Was that number one or two?" He'd take a number two out to the dumpster with him when he left.

A tiny smile appeared on the bespectacled man's face. "One. Young Elijah had mercy on his caregiver this time."

John swung the diaper bag over his shoulder and walked over to grab the occupied car seat. The Reeses said their goodbyes and headed down the stairs.

* * *

John entered their bedroom, closing the door softly behind himself after putting Elijah down for the night. It had taken longer than usual, his son being acclimated to his mother breastfeeding him at night. John had insisted she take a shower while he wiped the infant down in lieu of a bath and put him to sleep armed with a bottle and determination. She had finished and was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her phone. He reached over to turn on the baby monitor on the nightstand.

"Did you call my mom?"

He nodded and headed over to the dresser. "I told her you weren't feeling well. Something you ate. Better call her in the morning."

"I missed Taylor's call. He try you?"

"No, no missed calls." He grabbed his boxers and headed for the bathroom.

"I'll have to call him in the morning. He's probably already out for the day." Taylor was on an expensive senior school field trip to Japan, twelve hours ahead. It was close to midnight in New York City and around noon the next day there.

When he exited the bathroom following his shower, she was coming back into the bedroom. "Did he wake up?"

She shook her head. "No, I just went and ate some cereal. I was hungry." she said tiredly.

He met her beside their bed and pulled her to his chest, just holding her. "Are you okay?" He didn't want to keep asking but she'd been chased through New York City streets terrified that something would happen to their son. And then taken by a group of men, not knowing where they were taking her or what they were planning to do to her.

She felt his bare chest vibrate with his question and inhaled his Irish Spring scent, hands up at his shoulder blades. "Thank you for being paranoid. Finding me so fast." Even though her kidnapping had only been meant to convey a message, she was beyond relieved when John had shown up. She lowered her hands to his behind and massaged him. "I'm okay. I promise." She then drew her hands to his chest, peppering kisses there.

Immediately answering her unspoken plea for comfort and release, he lifted her by her waist and placed her on the bed, covering her body with his and kissing her wantonly. He slid down, pushing her nightgown up until it bunched under her armpits, and laved his tongue around her nipples. He slipped his hand into her panties, rubbing her there. Pushing his middle finger inside her, he stroked a few times, drawing her wetness from her. When she was just wet enough, he removed his hand and quickly slid his boxer-briefs down, kicking them off while she pushed her own underwear down her legs. Sitting back to allow her to remove them, he settled back on top of her, kissing her while inching himself inside.

He rocked slowly, keeping their mouths joined, relief and pleasure resonating between them. After several minutes, she turned her head to the side, breaking his kiss. "Faster," she told him. "Harder."

He sat up and back on his haunches, pulling her thighs on top of his and held onto her hips as he gave her what she needed. Harder and faster. He drew his thumb rapidly back and forth across her clit and stopped all movement when she came quickly, panting and grabbing tiny fistfuls of the bed sheet. When her shaking subsided, he resumed his stroking, hooking his arms under her knees as he spread her wide and pressed forward.

He made her come twice more before he let himself go, sensing she had reached her limit by how sensitive her entire body had gotten and the way she was pushing him away. After the room had stopped spinning, John got up from the bed and flipped the light switch by the door, cloaking their room in darkness. He watched via moonlight as Joss sat up and pushed her nightgown back down, and climbed back into the bed naked. He wrapped his right arm around her, hand settling on her butt, as she snuggled into his side.

An hour passed and neither of them had fallen asleep.

"Why aren't you sleeping, Joss?"

"Can't."

He knew the feeling. He gripped her tighter.


	3. Chapter 3

"Finch." Reese greeted Harold the following morning. He'd left Carter at home in bed and made a beeline to the library. He'd fallen asleep for maybe an hour or two last night, right after his wife had, but had woken up fully energized. On a mission, his internal drive on _Protect Family_ mode.

"We have a new number, Mr. Reese." Finch lifted his head and quickly continued before Reese could protest. "I'm asking Ms. Shaw to handle it, but she may need your assistance at a later time."

Reese nodded. "What do you have so far?" He took a seat across the room, next to the board with their new number taped on it. He sat with his feet planted wide, hunched over, his hands teepeed between his legs. He focused on his friend, steady gaze intent, ready to pounce on any relevant information.

Finch hesitated to share what he'd found so far because it wasn't much to use against Tom Stacey. John wouldn't be easy to contain with this serious problem hanging over his head, over the life he had that he never expected to get and would do anything not to lose. "He's been married for twenty-six years. One son, Chase, twenty-five, whom we all know about, and one daughter, Charlotte, twenty-three. His wife, Carol, doesn't work outside the home but spends time organizing charity events and volunteering at the VA. I've accessed all of his bank accounts, on- and off-shore, taken a look at his financial statements, and the man is worth millions. He has a few million in his accounts but most of his wealth is tied up in real estate."

Finch sighed. "As far as criminal activity, I'm unable to find any direct connections. I'm still looking into his friends but, aside from Mr. Quinn, they're all upper crust and appear to be legit. Same pertains to his wife and his children, Chase included. The senior Stacey's won several businessman of the year awards and donates thousands to charity on a regular basis."

Reese stood and walked over to where Finch sat, pacing slowly behind him, hand rubbing his chin as he thought. "What about his personal life? Any mistresses, other children?"

"We may need to do some legwork to determine that, Mr. Reese. I saw no consistent withdrawals unaccounted for, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. There are many creative manners in which to pay someone off." Finch watched as his friend rubbed his hands together unconsciously and appeared to be deep in thought. He didn't want to say it out loud, but Stacey, on paper, was clean as a whistle. Finch could threaten to drain Stacey's bank accounts but, as with most individuals with significant wealth, most of his assets were not in cash.

Reese's already bad mood plummeted. They didn't have time for legwork. His wife, his family was being threatened _now_ and the threat was credible. His true identity _had_ to remain unlinked to Joss. His vigilantism couldn't touch her, couldn't touch his real life. If anything happened to her because he entered her life, if she lost everything and ended up paying for his crimes...

"I should've listened to you, Finch. You were right. From the beginning. I never should've kept going back to her. We knew how it was going to end and I let her get into this. I _asked_ her to get into this." He shook his head. "Then we let ourselves start this thing and….I should've listened." He had wanted her in his life more than he wanted to keep her safe. That was the ugly truth. It was the most selfish thing he'd ever done, and he lied to himself everyday that he could have her and keep her safe, too.

Finch clicked his mouse and looked at one of his screens. "I don't think that's true, John." He rolled his chair back slightly so his friend could see the screen. He shifted his upper body to look at him. "I think everything happened as it should have."

Reese swallowed. Harold had pulled up a picture from Joss's phone. She had taken it from her bed in the hospital. Of him sitting in one of the hospital chairs holding his newborn son.

How could he ever regret his son?

Feeling recharged, a new determination flowing through his veins, he shut down the self recrimination and refocused on having both his family and their safety. On keeping the lie alive.

He resumed his pacing. "So this guy covers his tracks well. Except for last night. He threatened Carter himself, showed his face. He could have threatened to expose her anonymously. So this murder charge for his son has him shook. He could be worried about the family image or…." He stopped pacing. "It's just a father's twisted love for his son." He glanced at Finch before heading toward the exit. "I'll be in touch, Finch."

Harold shifted in his chair to watch John leave. He sighed to himself as a feeling of slight dread filled his chest. John hadn't given him instructions on what to look into, what he wanted to do next. He'd essentially told him "Don't call me. I'll call you." And that did not bode well. He turned to look at the picture of father and son a few moments more, the dread increasing.

He moved the mouse and clicked the "x" on the picture window.

* * *

Joss picked up the house phone, bouncing a fussing Elijah in her left arm. "Hey."

Reese listened for a moment. "What's the matter?"

"He's just fussing." She moved from the kitchen to the living room, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear while she searched for the pacifier. "What's going on?"

"I was just checking in." Reese stopped at the stop sign and looked both ways before accelerating. "Did Taylor ever call?"

"Yeah. I spoke to him after you left." She found one of the pacifiers in between the couch cushions and headed back toward the kitchen to rinse it off. "Where are you?"

"I'll be out most of the day, Joss. I'm doing some surveillance."

She stuck the pacifier in Elijah's mouth and the quiet blessedly washed over her. He was an easy baby, slept all night most nights, didn't cry much unless he was hungry or had a full diaper. As long as he wasn't left alone, as long as there was someone around him and in his sights, he was content. But she hadn't slept much and her nerves frayed from the trouble nipping at their heels.

"A new case or...ours?"

"Ours. When you go in tomorrow, keep working the Stacey case like you normally would."

She shifted Elijah to her right arm and the phone to her left ear. He and Finch must have come up with something without her. "What's the plan?" She noted an almost negligible hesitation before he responded. She noted it because she was looking for it.

"Something you're not going to like."

She had expected as much, and the familiar feeling of annoyance at having to have this argument again clung to her like a scratchy sweater. She felt the tension in her head begin to make its presence known. But she turned to look at her son in her arms. Their son. His son. And she knew why she was going to have to let this one go without much of a fight. She was going to have to remember that he knew her as well as she knew him. She was going to have to trust him.

"John..."

"The ball's gonna be in his court, Joss. What he does with it..."

She sighed to herself. "Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"I'll tell you anything you ask me."

She narrowed her eyes. He was good at putting balls in other people's courts all right. Clearly it was her turn. Did she really want to know? Irritated, she decided to end the phone call. "Fine, John. Be careful."

"You, too."

Hanging up the phone, she set it on the counter and looked at her baby. He turned to look at his mother. "Your father's gonna send me to the nuthouse one day really soon, Elijah Bear." He put his fingers in her mouth and she nommed on them. He giggled.

John pressed the end button on his phone. It had gone easier than he'd expected but, depending on how Stacey wanted to play it, this might not be the end of it. Sighing, he went to his recent calls list and pressed the call button. "Shaw, I need your help."

* * *

Reese tightened the gag around Carol Stacey's mouth as tears streamed down her face and her body rocked with sobs she was trying to contain that the fear wouldn't let her. He slowly walked around the kitchen chair she was strapped to, keeping his gaze hardened, his voice unemotional, detached. She had stopped struggling against the restraints, probably realizing he had made it impossible for her to escape and, even if she did, the gun he now held in his gloved hands would stop her.

He walked to the third, unoccupied chair he'd dragged into the living room from the kitchen. He sat slowly, legs spread as he leaned back casually and turned his attention to the other chair in front of him. His insurance. Carol and Tom's daughter, Charlotte. She sobbed louder than her mother and refused to look at him. Too scared to probably. He hadn't wanted to grab her, too, but he wasn't sure if Stacey loved his wife enough. His daughter, now, he most likely did.

Tom Stacey had endangered John's wife and child and the same would be done to his.

Reese slowly took the silencer out of his jacket and began to screw it into his handgun. Their whimpers became more pronounced but he refused to allow the sound to deter him. Stacey needed to read the fear in their eyes when he arrived. Needed to see the consequences of his actions. Needed to know without a single doubt what Reese was capable of. He wouldn't kill them, but Stacey damn well needed to believe and know that he would.

He looked around the Staceys' massive living room. He'd bypassed their security system and, to his luck, their live-in housekeeper was out of town. It was just them, alone, on a quiet Sunday evening at home, and he was about to eliminate this threat to his family tonight.

"Nice place. Good thing I put the plastic down." He watched as Charlotte turned to her mother, her face wet with tears, looking for the protection a child always sought from his parents. Carol looked devastated that she was unable to provide it.

His phone vibrated with an incoming text message and he took it out of his jacket pocket. It was from Shaw. Tom Stacey was home.

"Don't worry. It'll all be over soon. One way or the other." He checked his clip and racked the slide and let the last of the warmth slip from his face. He listened over the women's soft cries as the garage door opened and closed, the car turned off, and the car door opened and shut. He listened as Stacey made his way into the house, hanging his keys by the door. He turned around in his chair and straddled it, his back to his hostages. He rested his right arm across the top of the back of the chair, his left hand pointing the gun at the living room entryway. Waiting.

The color drained from Stacey's face when he faced the barrel of Reese's gun and saw his wife and daughter tied up behind Detective Carter's vigilante husband. He'd been able to explain his still-fresh injuries from his last face-off with John, but he wouldn't be able to explain this.

"Hi, Tom. Come on in. Charlotte, Carol, and I were just having a nice conversation. They didn't say much, but I'm pretty sure they want to know why I'm here. Why this is happening to them. Why they're this close to dying. You know why, don't you, Tom?" He rose from the chair but kept the gun leveled at Stacey. His voice dropped an octave. "Don't you?" John watched as Stacey's guilt-filled and worried eyes traveled over to his family. His voice bottomed out into a cold whisper. "Tell them."

"Honey, Charlotte. It's gonna be okay."

"Don't lie to them, Tom. I haven't decided that yet. Now, tell them." Reese gave him nearly ten seconds, watching him grapple with the idea of admitting his misdeeds while simultaneously defaulting to self-preservation. He decided to help him along, turning to fire his gun at the carpet just by Carol's left foot before turning his weapon back onto Stacey. The women jumped, startled, and their cries became even more pronounced. Stacey involuntarily lurched towards them, stopping when Reese's gun drew a bead at his head again.

"Jesus! Okay! Okay!" Stacey held his hands up in surrender. His voice bespoke his defeat. "Okay." He dropped his arms to his sides and his shoulders drooped. "I had the detective on Chase's case kidnapped and I threatened her to make her pin it on someone else."

Reese noted he wasn't looking at his wife nor his daughter when he spoke. "How did you find out about her?"

"Shit. Fuck! Fuck! Alonzo Quinn, okay? I've known him for years. I knew she was the reason he was locked up. And she was handling Chase's case." He looked up at Reese. "I don't want my son to go to prison. I don't want him to break his mother's heart."

Reese stepped toward Stacey, gun trained a foot from his head. Fire blazed in his wild eyes. "I don't care, Tom. About any of you. Detective Carter is off limits. Are we clear, Tom?" His lips disappeared into a thin line, punctuating the scowl etched deeply on his face. Stacey nodded, swallowing, his wide fearful eyes switching between the gun's barrel and its owner's crazy eyes. Reese gritted his teeth. "I didn't hear you, Tom."

Stacey looked him in the eye. "We're clear."

Reese's eyes were unwavering. "Good. I'll put a bullet in their heads if things ever get foggy again, Tom." He watched as Stacey's head bobbed quickly, sharp understanding in his eyes.

Confident that his warning was heeded, he lowered his weapon and headed for the back door. "Better get Chase a good lawyer, Tom. He's gonna need one."

* * *

"Mmhmm, yeah. He knew better. Now he's trying to get back in good with you. Mmhmm." Joss took her attention away from her phone call when she saw and heard her husband step out into sunroom. The sun was on its way down as she stood looking out at the view while her girlfriend's drama gave her an escape from her own.

John smiled at his son in his mother's arms as he walked over to them. He held his hands out to the baby and Elijah reached for him. John kissed him all over his face before settling him in his left arm. "You being good for Mommy?" Elijah giggled when his father tickled his tummy.

"Mmhmm." Joss made eye contact with John. "Mmhmm. Yeah. Listen, girl. I'll call you back later...Okay." She hung up, phone in her hand at her side while she waited for him to say something.

He shifted the baby to his right shoulder. "It's taken care of." He waited to see relief on her face and didn't see any.

"What did you do?"

He rubbed the baby's back, inhaling his baby scent. "I went to his house, tied up his wife and daughter, and threatened to kill them if he came after you."

She sighed and refrained from shaking her head. "Did anybody get hurt?"

"No. Stacey made the right decision."

She decided not to ask him to clarify. "What about Quinn?"

"He gave Stacey the tip about you." He eyed her sternly. "He's a problem we need to deal with."

"If he had any clout left to get back at us he would have already. Going through his friend because he happened to have the opportunity? It's weak. _He's_ weak. I'm sure he tried to give me up at the trial to save his own ass. Obviously no one listened. My record's exemplary. They weren't going to believe him."

He stared at her. "He has other friends, Joss. He could try to go through one of them again."

"I'm not about to give you permission to kill him." She walked around him and headed into the house.

He sighed, following her inside while taking Elijah's fingers from his mouth so he could talk. It was his son's favorite current pastime: putting his tiny fingers in the mouths of anyone who held him. "What if I get Shaw to do it?"

"John..."

He didn't respond, instead plopping his tall frame onto the couch. Quinn was a loose end he wanted to cut off. Badly. But it was either his happy marriage or Quinn's demise. Apparently he couldn't have both. He held Elijah up in front of him, an exaggerated pout on his lips. "Mommy won't let me take out Quinn." His son only stared at him, his big brown eyes sympathetic, before they zeroed in on his daddy's mouth and both sets of fingers followed.

"John!"

"Mm?" He mumbled around Elijah's fingers.

"Don't tell him that!"

John chuckled to himself as he heard her continue, mumbling on her way down the hall.

"I swear. We need to have all our asses in church Sunday morning. In the front row..."


	4. Chapter 4

John and Joss headed toward the end of the outside ticket counter line at the comedy club the following Saturday evening. With her spouse being free for a change on a weekend night, Joss had gotten her mother to babysit at the last minute so that they could have a date night.

She smiled. "I saw Arnez J last time I came. Never laughed so hard in my entire life. He does all this physical comedy and it's hilarious. If he comes back, we _have_ to go see him."

They stood behind another couple and Reese looked at the line ahead of them. It was probably fifteen people deep. "Never heard of him."

"I've never heard of this guy we're seeing tonight. Hopefully we can get some seats in the back so we don't get harassed." She looked at her white husband. "You know we're easy targets."

He chuckled.

The woman in front of them turned to them, striking a conversational tone. "We're heading for seats in the back, too."

Joss's stomach dropped to the concrete when the woman's male companion turned around to smile at them. She watched as recognition slowly dawned on him when he met her eyes. _Oh my God._ Her heart stuttered and her mouth went dry in her speechless panic. It was the man she'd drugged for his DNA to clear John. The man she _swore_ she would never see in this big city again.

The dark-haired stranger seemed just as shocked. Curiosity mixed with anger showed in his eyes almost immediately. "Jackie?"

 _Oh God_. He remembered her fake name and surely everything else. Why wouldn't he?

"From _Truth,_ a couple years ago," he continued _._

Adrenaline, guilt, regret, and fear all surged through her, and the turmoil churning in her mind pushed her to go, run. She needed time to process, time to figure out how to confess to her crime, defend what couldn't be defended, ask for forgiveness, prepare for consequences.

Reese watched her intently. Her extreme and sudden agitation had him on alert instantly, instinctively placing his body between hers and the mystery man.

With her breath quickening and the feeling of dread settling in, Joss turned to flee.

"Wait. Wait!" The man took off after her, leaving his girlfriend standing in the line confounded, Reese hot on his heels.

Joss felt tears springing to her eyes as she tried to flee, breaking into a graceless, aimless half-jog. She had pushed what she'd done—all of it—out of her mind. Because it wasn't her. It wasn't something she did. Luring someone with the promise of a nightcap and stealing his DNA? Leaving him to be confused with possibly hours of missing time when he woke up, wondering what happened to him while he was blacked out? No. It wasn't something someone like her did and thinking about it made her feel dirty, sick to her stomach.

The stranger from the club caught up with her quickly, grabbing her arm to turn her around. Reese yanked him off, shoving him aside. "Back off." His voice was stern as he stood in front of his wife.

The tall man was undeterred. "No. No! She's gonna talk to me. Hey. Hey!" He tried to go around Reese, the need for answers fueling his determination.

"Jerry!" The man's girlfriend called to him as she approached his side.

Reese brought his forearm across Jerry's neck, shoving forward until the man was pressed against the brick wall of a nearby building, keeping him away from Joss until he calmed down. Reese had no idea what the hell was going on, what Joss of all people had done to him, but if he had to get rid of a body tonight—Jerry's—he would.

"What happened that night? Why the hell did you drug me?" Jerry tried to shake Reese off. "Get the hell off me. She'll probably end up drugging you, too, before you take her home." When he realized he couldn't, he stopped struggling.

John looked over his shoulder at Joss as she slowly approached them, looking dejected and resigned.

There was no good place to start. She could lie, of course, say it hadn't been her. That she left him passed out because she hadn't wanted to get involved. But it was the cover-up that always bit people in the ass. And her reaction had given her away anyway. She had done it and she had to face it.

"I'm sorry." Her voice didn't sound like her own. Everything sounded muffled and tinny. She watched as John slowly released Jerry and stepped back, watching her with extreme concern.

"So you did drug me?"

She nodded.

"Why? What'd you do?"

She swallowed. "I swabbed you. I needed your DNA...so I could get a test to go a certain way. That's all. I'm sorry." She swallowed again as she watched him look at the ground and shake his head in disbelief.

"I always wondered what happened." He looked up at her. "You didn't take anything and when I woke up I was still in my car."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I did it to save a friend."

Reese stood stock still. He didn't know exactly how his fingerprints and DNA hadn't matched his actual fingerprints and DNA, but he figured Finch had been responsible. It was right up Harold's alley. There had been no question in his mind. But _Joss_ had done it? Taken someone else's DNA to replace his original sample? Donnelly had been right about that? The federal agent hadn't known about Finch so Reese had assumed he was hell bent on pinning everything regarding the cover-up on Joss. She had risked even more than he knew. He was instantly distressed.

But they needed to leave. She was confessing to a crime in front of nosey bystanders and it was past time for her to go before Jerry found out she was a cop and Jackie wasn't her real name.

He took the few steps over to her and grabbed her arm, turning her and quickly ushering her toward the parking lot. Not a word was spoken as he hurried her along, making sure Jerry wasn't following them. Unlocking the passenger side door, he settled her inside and leaned down so she could see him. "Stay put. I'll be right back." He closed the door before she could protest and covertly headed back in the direction from which they came. As he suspected, Jerry and his date looked to be heading toward their car. He hid and watched, using his phone to snap pictures of the license plate. With that, a first name, and a description, he would have no problem finding Jerry if he became a problem.

Back in the driver's seat, Reese looked over at his subdued wife. Her elbow was resting on the door frame, fingertips rubbing her temple. "Are you okay?" There was a long silence before she responded.

"Not yet."

He turned to look out the windshield. "He's okay. Nothing happened to him. He's fine." There was an even longer spell of silence.

"Yeah."

Reese sighed to himself, still looking at nothing. "I didn't know."

"I didn't tell you."

There was so much he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure how to say it. How to make it so it didn't come out wrong. How to keep himself from sounding ungrateful. "Thank you."

She heard it. It was in his reluctant tone. It wasn't what he wanted to say; it was what he figured was the appropriate thing to say. "But?"

He hesitated again before making his feelings known. "I don't like that you did it. I never have and I still don't want you risking your life for mine."

She tsked loudly, causing him to face her. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Not risk your freedom for mine." He thought back to Stacey, and his being the reason the man had anything to hold over her head. "I didn't want any of this for you."

"I didn't think I would ever do any of this. But I couldn't let Donnelly put you away as a terrorist when you were anything but. Even though you drove me crazy, I...panicked...thinking about you being locked away forever. Not being there...anymore."

John thought back to that dark time. He'd been in worse situations. Much worse. But it had been just him. No one around who was innocent and innocently cared about him to her own detriment. He was okay with her interrogation of him. She would simply ask him questions and he'd play the role like Warren would, playing on his attractive female interrogator's compassion, becoming expectedly combative, then arrogantly flirtatious before falling under her spell and letting some personal truths slip out. It was a game they had set up and played without opportunity to discuss the rules beforehand but they didn't have to. She just knew. And he fed off her strength and certainty. So, he was okay with it, and had things gone sideways there, had she somehow slipped up, he would have confessed and ended it. But the moment he'd stupidly met her on the bridge instead of keeping his distance, and Donnelly had caught them, had devastated him. He'd seen her life flash before his eyes, his role in her demise, and he'd needed time and space from her. He wasn't proud of it but he'd needed it and was sure she had, too, because she'd never tried to contact him until it became necessary either. "If you had lost your life because of me, Joss..."

She turned to him. "How do you think I felt, John? That whole thing started because of me. Because I had run your prints and started trying to hunt you down when all you were doing was saving people's lives, including mine." She sighed raggedly. "I just couldn't let it happen. So I did what I did. I got rid of the prints, I date rape drugged an innocent man, and I sabotaged a federal investigation that needed to be sabotaged because they were wrong."

More silence filled the car as the sun began to set, ending one chapter, one day, before it could start another.

"I should have been there. Afterwards."

She shook her head slightly. "I needed time, too." She decided to forge ahead before she thought better of it, since they were already digging into the recent past. "It's just...that thing with Fusco. I don't know. It was the one time I asked you to help me with something and you told me I was on my own."

He had anticipated it but he still cringed when she brought it up. "I didn't know how bad it was. What you were planning to do."

"You were right. I had to make up my own mind about Fusco. But you were a damn asshole about it. I didn't need tough love. I needed someone to talk it out with. It wasn't like I could go to anyone else."

He didn't know if it was possible to feel worse. He remembered being frustrated at the time, bad shit piling up, and he'd taken some of it out on her. He felt his eyes begin to water as his thoughts took a dark turn. As he felt himself slipping into old habits. He had worked hard to believe he deserved some happiness, a family. He had worked hard to believe they would be safe with the CIA and FBI no longer after him. He had worked hard to buy into the lie. But Stacey, Jerry, Stills...He had brought nothing but stress into her life. How could she love him? Why had she married him and had his child?

She looked straight ahead, missing the change in him, and nodded in remembrance. "So, yeah, there was a reason you didn't know what I was going to do."

"I'm sorry." His fingers fiddled with the buttons on the steering wheel. He truly didn't know what else to say, how to explain his behavior at the time, and could only promise himself never to shut her down again.

"I know, John." She turned and smiled reassuringly at him. "It's okay." She sighed and the smile fell from her face as she looked out the windshield again. "It all worked out the way it was supposed to I guess..." She would never forget moving that decomposed body. Never. But she wouldn't tell him that. His guilt complex was legendary.

There was yet another long stretch of silence before Reese spoke again. "Why did you marry me?"

Carter almost gave herself whiplash when she turned to him. "What?"

"All the trouble I brought. How I compromised you. Why?"

His tone wasn't accusatory, but it was unsure, doubtful, and she would be lying if she said it didn't hurt her feelings. How could he ask her that?

She sat forward in her seat and stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar in incredulity. "After everything I've done for you," her hand gestured toward the parking lot, "drugging people to save you, you don't think I love you?"

He turned his eyes on her, watery and red-rimmed. "That was guilt. Because you think you started Donnelly's witch hunt."

She felt the beginnings of tears burning behind her eyelids. "You really don't think I love you?"

He closed his eyes momentarily and thinned his lips, frustrated his question was coming out wrong. "I know that you love me. I...I just don't know why you stay."

She couldn't believe he was asking her this. Did he really think she wasn't all in? That she would up and leave him? That she lied when she pledged to spend the rest of her life with him? After everything?

Did he want out?

She turned away from him and sat back in her seat, staring out the side window. She fought her tears valiantly, anger and hurt warring within her. She swallowed and tried to strip all emotion from her voice before she spoke. "Drive. We need to go pick up our son."

John closed his eyes for several seconds and took a deep breath. He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have let his insecurities, his feelings of unworthiness get the best of him. But he couldn't help it.

He just couldn't understand how _he_ deserved _her_ , but all she heard was how he doubted her love for him.

He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of their parking spot, heading toward his mother-in-law's house. The silence all the way there was deafening.

* * *

Joss was out of the car as soon as it stopped in her mother's driveway, leaving John staring after her as she went inside to get her baby.

"You're back early." Joss's mother greeted her as she walked into the house trying to mask her emotions.

"It wasn't any good so we left early."

"Aww, that's too bad."

"Yeah." Carter began to gather up the baby's belongings from her mother's living room as she spoke. "How was he?"

Sensing her daughter was in a hurry, she placed Elijah in his car seat at the kitchen table. She smiled at him. "Just fine. He ate at 6:45. Where's John?"

"I left him in the car." Joss entered the kitchen with the diaper bag, intending to steer the conversation away from John. He always came in with her when they picked Elijah up. She didn't want any questions. "Did he finish the bottle?"

"Yeah, it's in the sink. You came early. I didn't get a chance to wash it."

Joss went to the sink and dumped the used bottle into the bag. "That's okay." Shouldering it, she moved to stand next to her mother, arm wrapping around the car seat handle as she prepared to pick it up.

"Get everything?"

Carter looked around and nodded. "Think so. Thanks, Ma."

"Hey." She touched her daughter's arm. "You okay?"

"Yep," she lied while picking up the car seat.

Carter's mother quietly followed her daughter and grandson to the front door. She watched from the door as Elijah was placed in the back seat and Joss settled herself in the front. John waved briefly before they backed out of the driveway and she wondered what he had done. He was a nice man on the surface but she saw a lot of pain in him, and she worried it was going to turn into another Paul situation. Wearily, she stepped back inside and shut the door.

Twenty minutes later, the Reese family pulled into their driveway when John's phone vibrated in his pocket. He closed his eyes momentarily in silent protest. It wasn't that late but he was drained from the events of the previous two hours and all the tension. He stopped the car before pulling into the garage and put his phone to his ear.

"Yeah, Finch?" He rubbed his forehead as he listened. "Well, where's Shaw?...Okay." He hung up, dropping the phone in the cup holder as he watched Joss wordlessly get out of the car. He hurried out and rounded the vehicle but she beat him to the car seat. Grabbing the diaper bag instead, he intended to follow them into the house before leaving to deal with their number. Thwarting his plans, she practically snatched the bag from him and slung it over her shoulder, heading toward the garage.

"Just go."

She left him standing there and entered the garage, pressing the button to close the garage door before entering the house.

He watched until it closed.


	5. Chapter 5

Joss didn't know he was hurt until he gingerly sat across from her at the table for breakfast the following morning. He had gotten in around five o'clock and quietly slipped into bed beside her. She had left him sleeping when Elijah made his awakened state known that morning, and she had fed the infant, finished making breakfast, talked to Taylor, and sat down to eat before John ambled into the kitchen. She purposefully didn't look at him, mechanically returning his good morning greeting and continuing on with her breakfast while he greeted his son in his bouncer on the kitchen counter before fixing his own plate.

Her heart constricted in her chest, however, when she saw his face. His lip was cut and a large bruise sat on his right cheekbone. And that was only what she could see. He wasn't looking at her, and she could tell he didn't want her making a fuss. She could tell he was missing those days where he could go home and lick his wounds alone. "You okay?"

He poked at his hash browns with his fork and nodded. "Yeah."

"What's going on under your shirt? Are they broken or bruised?"

He shrugged slightly.

She tried to contain her sigh. "Did you take anything yet?"

"I will after I eat."

"You need to ice them, too, John." She got up from her chair just as Elijah dropped the toy he was playing with on the floor. She reached down to get it and handed it back to him before disappearing from the kitchen. She returned moments later, oxycodone in hand. She placed it on the table next to her husband's plate and stood there debating with herself.

What she wanted to say had been a long time coming and she had held her tongue longer than she'd expected to. It was never a good time. Either she wasn't in the mood or he was in a good mood she didn't want to spoil. Or they were both working or Taylor was around. Or they were spending time with Elijah or it had rained that day or she'd gotten a hangnail or something. It was always, always something. But it wasn't raining right now. She had no hangnail, Taylor was gone, and Elijah was entertaining himself. They weren't working, John wasn't in a good mood, and she realized she didn't want to hold her tongue any longer. She was frustrated with him, with everything that had happened last night. "When are you going to stop this, John? When are you going to quit?"

John lowered his head, what little appetite he had gone. He had known it was coming. Someday. And she had every right to ask. He just...wasn't ready. He thought he would be, he thought he was ready to try, but when the time came he held onto his penance like an abusive security blanket. Stalling, he reached for the medicine bottle, opened it, and tossed back a pill. He chased it with orange juice and set the glass back on the table.

Joss leaned against the table next to him, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor. She spoke softly. "You said you wanted to try and have a baby. I said, if we even could, it wouldn't work with you doing what you do. That we couldn't put strangers' well-being over our own when we have a kid we need to raise. You said you would give it up if it happened for us, turn things over to Shaw." She turned to look at him. "Elijah's four months old, John." At the sound of his name, Elijah dropped his toy again and his mother leaned down to pick it up and hand it to him once more before she resumed her position against the table.

She had honestly thought it would never happen. Maybe he hadn't either when he made that promise. She was in good health, kept herself active and ate relatively well, but it was a fact that egg wells ran dry for every woman, and the ones she had left were forty-two years old. So she went into it partly because she figured her child bearing days were over and it was never going to happen for them anyway. And if it did happen, she would be happy because he would be happy. She loved him and he was the only man on earth she would start the parenting game all over again for.

She was pregnant as soon as she went off birth control, three months after they got married.

When she was met with continual silence, she took pity on him and gave up her line of questioning. She straightened up and stood by his side. "Come on. You should lay down."

Normally, John wouldn't have agreed to go back to bed only to be bored out of his mind, but it sounded more than a little appealing at the moment. He felt like shit physically and he wanted to get out from under Joss's scrutiny. He felt crowded and needed some time to think about everything that had happened in the last twelve-plus hours. He needed time to get his shit together. He'd been a married man for a year and a half but he still felt himself reverting back to his habit of solitude often.

She coaxed him from the chair, told Elijah she'd be right back knowing he was just going to start fussing at being left alone anyway, and helped John up the stairs. She settled him in the bed and pulled the covers up to his chest.

He looked into her eyes as she stared at him, soft hand stroking his face, and he didn't want her to leave. This room, his side, his life. "I'm trying."

She smiled softly, unable to stay angry with this beautiful, bruised man. Life had done a number on him, and at times she forgot that. War was hell and then he followed that up with assassinating for the CIA when his soul had been meant for neither. He would probably always backslide, always find himself stewing in his murderous past and questioning any happiness he felt, but she would hang in there. She wouldn't give up on him. "I know. Just don't stop." With that, she left the room, only to return minutes later carrying their baby boy, her cell phone, and a few toys. She climbed onto the bed next to her husband, her back against the headboard. She settled Elijah in her lap, listening to him coo and drool on the toys he put in his mouth while John turned his face into her thigh. She stroked his hair until he fell asleep.

* * *

John slowly came back to consciousness several hours later. He looked to his left, realizing Joss and Elijah were gone. He looked at the clock on the nightstand to his right. It was just past three o'clock in the afternoon. He balled his fists on each side and pressed them into the mattress, carefully pushing himself into a seated position. He was sore, but it wasn't too bad. He'd needed sleep more than anything. Sleep and reassurance that his wife was still in this with him.

He sat there for awhile. Thinking. About what she'd asked him and what was holding him back.

He had wanted nothing more than to have a child with Joss. He never thought he would find someone again, considering the life he lived. Where he'd come from and where he was going. But he had. So he carefully took that good fortune, and the oft repressed hopeful part of him cautiously reached for more. Maybe, just maybe, he could be a husband and a father, too. Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe having a son or daughter with his beautiful wife would fill that hole left in him from mercilessly taking so many lives.

He had hoped it would be like a light switch. That hearing his son's first cries as he cut the umbilical cord would magically close the hole and he'd be ready to leave the numbers behind. He'd have produced life, pure and innocent, instead of taking it away. He'd have a new purpose, a new chapter to begin. But it didn't happen that way. Days went by, then weeks. And now Elijah was starting to sit up by himself and would probably be crawling before he knew it.

And he was still working the numbers with Finch.

He sighed, pulled the covers to the side, and climbed out of the bed. Feeling hungry and groggy, he made his way down the hall, seeing Elijah's door slightly ajar. He peeked in and saw the baby sound asleep. Continuing down the stairs and into the family room, he saw Joss asleep on the couch, taking advantage of Elijah's nap time. Quietly, he made his way toward the refrigerator.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

He closed the refrigerator door guiltily. "Did I wake you up?"

"Mm mm," she moaned within a yawn as she sat up and stretched. "You know that little man upstairs has got me sleeping light. You hungry? I didn't feel like cooking. I can make you a sandwich. You need to sit down." She watched him as he shook his head, making his way over to her. She would try to get him to rest while she could. Because as soon as Finch or Shaw called, he'd be back to it, pain be damned.

He sat next to her on the couch, drawing her to his side. "I'll fix something in a minute." He turned to look at her after she snuggled into him, and leisurely rubbed up and down her arm. "How are you?"

She pulled her head back slightly to look at him, knitting her brows together. "Fine. Why?"

"Last night….The man at the comedy club…..The one sitting next to you right now."

She settled her head back into his shoulder. "Yeah. I was just surprised to see him." She sighed heavily. "I'm just glad nothing happened to him while he was out."

"I really do appreciate what you did. Just don't do it again. Please."

"Don't be reckless again and I won't have to."

"Point taken."

His hand stilled on her arm and she listened to the extended silence that followed, drawing stark attention to the elephant in the room. As she listened to him breathe, felt his body tense slightly, she knew he was thinking about it, too. So she drew her eyes to the television and waited for him.

"I still feel guilty...murdering people. Being good at it...but it's more than that."

She took her eyes away from the TV and stared at the rug in front of the couch while she waited for him to continue.

"Fighting, trying to survive...it's all I know."

She figured that was what it was more than anything. He was scared. From military special ops to the CIA to living on the streets to his current dangerous occupation, struggling to stay alive physically and emotionally really was all he knew. To go from all that to just...living...was an adjustment she knew wouldn't be easy for him. "I know. But it's never too late to learn something new. You're a great husband and father, and that's new to you." She placed her hand soothingly on his chest to help take the sting out of her next words. "I wish I could tell you to just forget about it. To keep doing what you're doing. But Elijah's here and he needs you.

"You'll never stop feeling guilty and you probably shouldn't. It means you have a heart and you're not a monster. But it's not about you anymore." She felt and heard his deep sigh.

"What would I do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. You could just retire. I think you've worked more than most people do in an entire lifetime."

He resumed rubbing her arm. "Hm. Stay at home dad?"

"Yeah. If you wanted." She looked at him, already knowing he was grimacing at the idea. She laughed. Baby steps on that one. "Yeah, I know. I'm not sure I could do it either. Maybe I should. Do it differently this time."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I've always worked. I left Taylor for the military. I worked all kinds of crazy hours when I made detective." She looked at him. "And helping you." He met her eyes, a small smile on his face before she put her head back down. "I feel like I wasn't there for him enough."

"Mm. No easy answers are there?"

"Never." She shifted closer to him. "You could do the private eye thing. At least it's legal. Not as dangerous, at least in real life."

"And spend my time finding cheating spouses?"

"You don't have to take those cases. You'll be your own boss. Specialize." She looked at him. "Think outside the box, John." She felt him shrug. "Celebrity bodyguard?"

"That's thinking outside the box?"

"I wanna meet some famous people. So sue me." She shrugged. "Krav Maga instructor? Teacher?...Chef?...Zookeeper?" She laughed as he dramatically took his arm from around her and tried to scoot away. She wrapped it back around herself and calmed her mirth. She drew her finger lightly in circles on his chest. "You can be whatever you want to be."

"Oh, I can, Mommy?" They both started laughing.

"Yes, you can."

After they settled down, John leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I wish you knew how much I love you."

"I do."

"You don't. You really don't."

"I love you, too. Don't ever doubt that."

"I don't. I won't."

* * *

The following weekend, Carter sat up on her haunches and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Woo!" The sun was beaming down something fierce. "I should have brought my hat."

Her mother continued filling the space around the flower she was planting with soil. "I got a hat in the house you can use."

Carter got up from the ground, taking her gloves off and dropping them on the grass. "Where is it?"

"In my closet."

Joss rolled her eyes. Real specific. Her mother used every closet in her house. "Which closet, Mom?"

"In the blue guest room. On the top shelf."

"Okay." Joss wiped her slightly sweaty hands on her pants and headed toward the front door. She smiled as she passed Elijah, surprised he was keeping his little hat on his head as he sat up on his own on a blanket nearby surrounded by toys. She hoped he'd continue to be content and not cry for her to pick him up as she passed. When she escaped into the house with nary a peep from him, she smiled and continued on her way, sliding her dark sunglasses on top of her head so she could see in the house. She returned a few minutes later, big straw hat on her head, sunglasses back on, and her hair off her neck in a low bun. She got back down on her hands and knees. "You don't need anything to drink, Ma?"

"I'll go get something in a minute."

Accepting that answer, Joss continued to help her mother with her springtime gardening in comfortable silence, both of them occasionally glancing over at Elijah to check on him. Her mother broke it after awhile.

"So, what's going on with you and your husband? You shot out of here like a bat out of hell last weekend." To head off her daughter's protest, she added, "I know you're grown but you'll always be my child and I'll always worry."

Carter sighed softly. She should've known her mother wasn't going to let that go without saying something. She wouldn't have let Taylor slide either so she couldn't say a damn thing about it really. "It's fine, Mom." She set the trowel down, sprinkled some plant food and placed the flower in the hole. Deep in thought, she took her time surrounding it with soil and sat back.

It was another minute before she asked rhetorically, "I have a type, don't I? Military. With big hearts and beautiful smiles who can't handle what they've seen and done." She glanced at her baby who had apparently tipped over while he sucked on his toy keys. "Who I have sons with." She let out a huff and shook her head. "But it is different this time."

Her mother stopped what she was doing and looked at her daughter.

"He's trying." Carter nodded, still thinking to herself. Remembering how he was when she met him. Remembering how he gave up that bullet he said had his name on it and never asked for it back. Knowing the progress he'd made in the four years she'd known him. "You don't know how far he's come. I'm proud of him. He could've gone a completely different way."

Gail sighed. "Well, that's all any of us can do really. Just keep trying."

Carter nodded. "He'll get there. Even if he doesn't, as much as we've been through, I know I'm not going anywhere. He's it for me."

"Chile, I know he's 'it' for you. You married him as soon as he brought you home from the hospital. I didn't know what the hell had gotten into you."

Joss dropped her jaw. "I did not!"

"Next thing I know you're having his brown baby two minutes later so I figured he wasn't planning on going anywhere."

Joss squinted her eyes and shook her head at her mother, trying not to smile. She threw a rag at her arm and they both laughed. "It did not happen like that!"

"Don't lie to your mother, Jocelyn Siobhan Harris Carter Reese. You know I'm right."

"I knew him for three years!"

"And when'd I meet him? When you were walking down that aisle."

Carter continued to laugh. "You know what, Mama?" She feigned leaving. "You can finish your own gardening. I'm just gonna take my 'brown' baby and go home."

"Okay, okay. I need your help so I'll shut up about your shotgun wedding."

Joss sat back down and continued to shake her head. Her mother was a hot damn mess but she'd appreciated her chill when she first brought John home. She hadn't officially introduced him as her man, but she knew her mother wasn't stupid and had pieced it together. She knew she'd had her reservations when she married him shortly after, still did, but it meant a lot to Joss that her mother supported her in spite of them.

They both turned their heads when they heard a car door slam shut and the subject of their conversation sauntered up the driveway.

Reese reached down and picked Elijah up before taking the few steps toward Joss and her mother.

Carter looked up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Finished up early. Decided to stop by." He turned to the baby in his arms. "Have you been helping Mommy and Grandma?" Elijah reached for his sunglasses and he let the infant pull them off. They promptly went into his mouth.

John walked over to the women, inspecting their work. "It looks nice. Almost finished?"

"We still have to do the other side, but it's smaller so it shouldn't take long." Joss teased, "I see you didn't come dressed to help anyway."

He looked down at his white dress shirt and black slacks before looking back up once his son starting tapping him in the face with the sunglasses. To avoid getting poked in the eye, he gently guided them away from his face.

Gail turned to him. "You hungry? There's some food on the stove."

"No, ma'am. I was just stopping by to see if the two of you wanted me to take Elijah home so you can finish working." The baby continued to try to poke his eyes out and he again drew the glasses away from his face.

Carter stood up and took the few steps over to him. "Yeah, you can if you want." She looked at him closely, seeing something that worried her in his eyes. "Come on. He probably needs to be changed before you go." Reese followed her into the house.

She took her sunglasses and hat off, found a diaper and some wipes, took the baby from John, and placed him on the blanket already on the den floor. "What's wrong?"

John eased himself onto the couch next to them. "I just quit."

Her hands faltered as she changed Elijah's diaper. That was why he had finished early. That was why he looked troubled.

Her mind was reeling. He hadn't talked to her about this, hadn't told her he'd made his decision. He had just gone to meet up with Finch and Shaw that morning to help someone like he usually did. Did he know what he was going to do when he got there? Or was it spur of the moment, akin to ripping a bandaid off? How did Finch take it? Shaw? Why was _she_ suddenly feeling suckerpunched and lost?

She quickly finished with the diaper change and sat back on her heels, palms flat on her thighs. "Why now? You didn't tell me you were going to do this now."

He shrugged and slid from the couch onto the floor beside them. Elijah turned to him and smiled. Reese couldn't help but smile back. His voice caught. "It needed to be done."

Carter let out a whoosh of air. "Wow."

Reese nodded. "Yeah."

She reached out and touched his arm. "You're gonna be okay." She watched his eyes as they looked into hers for a long while. When it was actually becoming uncomfortable, she saw them change and he nodded. She could only imagine what he was feeling since _she_ was feeling discombobulated. No more numbers meant no more numbers for _both_ of them. She had gotten used to the routine as much as he had. Finch wasn't just losing John; he was losing her help, too. It meant working with Fusco and being excluded from what used to be a joint secret venture. Would they still be able to see Finch and Shaw without being involved in their work? What would their relationships be like without that backdrop? Would continuing to associate with them implicate John and her down the line anyway if Shaw and Finch were ever caught?

Shit. Why was this bothering her so much? Isn't this what they both needed to do to be good parents? Isn't this what they agreed to do before bringing a child into the world? Isn't this what needed to happen so Elijah would have both his parents around to raise him without the added danger and risk?

Finding herself suddenly needing comfort, maybe even as much as he probably did, she picked Elijah up and scooted over to her husband. He shifted so his back was against the couch and wrapped his arm around her.

They sat together, shell-shocked, Elijah blissfully unaware as he played with his daddy's sunglasses.

 _Two Weeks Later_

Reese sat in a diner Wednesday afternoon, reading the morning paper. He usually surveyed the news on his phone, but he'd seen the headline and decided to grab a paper copy.

 _Criminal Cops' Ringleader Found Dead Behind Bars_

A twitch of a knowing smile briefly graced his face before he set the paper down.

He looked up when Finch approached his table, smiling to himself once more as Harold ignored him and headed straight to the stroller parked next to him at the end of the table. "You just missed him. He just fell asleep."

With a tinge of disappointment on his face, Finch settled himself across from John. "Have you ordered yet, John?"

"Just coffee." Reese sat back in his booth. "So, how have you been, Harold?"

"Quite well, John." He turned to the waitress as she approached with her notepad.

They both placed their lunch orders and turned to face one another after she left.

Finch shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat. "I understand Detective Carter placed Chase Stacey under arrest yesterday afternoon." John, of course, had been on the scene lurking when she'd gone to bring the younger Stacey in, and Finch, for his part, had listened in via her phone. Just in case.

Reese took a sip of his coffee and nodded, glad for the confirmation that his friend was still keeping tabs on his wife. "No problems. Let's hope it stays that way."

The waitress brought Finch's cola and he took a sip. "Speaking of the detective, I understand congratulations are in order." Harold watched as his friend winced.

"She's not happy."

"I imagine it is a bit overwhelming."

Reese nodded again while fiddling with his mug. "She says she's going to stay home after this one. I'll probably take some time off for awhile, too." He shrugged, secretly hoping he'd still have the energy to run after two small children so close in age in the coming years. "We'll make it work. We always do." Changing the subject, Reese inquired, "New guy?"

"Ms. Shaw dislikes him. Immensely."

"Did you expect her not to?"

Finch smiled and nodded. "No. But she misses you, Mr. Reese."

"She misses the dog," he deadpanned. But Finch was probably right. The sweet Quinn goodbye gift said as much. "We invite her over but she never comes."

"Just keep inviting her. She'll come around."

The two former colleagues continued catching up over their lunch, discussing Reese's replacement and his martial arts studio progress.

Finch looked at his watch at the end of their meal. "I better be going, Mr. Reese."

John felt a slight pang. He was used to going off with Finch. He wondered what case they were working on, how he would have approached it. He wondered how much Finch had told the new guy. He wondered if the new guy would protect Finch like he could.

Harold stood. "Same time next week?"

John stopped his musings and nodded.

At his nod, Finch placed an envelope in front of his friend, leaned over slightly to bid the sleeping Elijah goodbye, and left the diner.

Before he could open the envelope, Reese's phone vibrated on the table in front of him. It was Joss. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." She lowered her voice. "Everybody knows already I'm sure. I bet they're asking Fusco behind my back." She sighed. She'd had the same symptoms the last time and she worked with naturally suspicious cops. They definitely all knew. "Anyway, so where are you two?"

John glanced into the stroller. "At _Rickey_ 's diner. New place I wanted to try."

"Did Harold meet you?"

"He just left."

"How's he doing? Things working out okay?"

John smiled to himself. She missed working with them as much as he did. "He's fine." He shrugged his left shoulder. "He's Finch, Joss. He had help before me and he has it now."

"You were special, John. You _are_ special. He knows it and I know he misses you."

Reese lowered his head. "Have you had lunch yet, Joss?"

She rolled her eyes at his change of subject. "Crackers and Gatorade. You know I can't do anything else right now."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you aren't."

He chuckled. She'd said the same thing with Elijah. Then he turned serious again. "Thank you."

She sighed. He'd said the same thing when she was sick carrying Elijah. It melted her then and it melted her now. She found herself changing the subject this time. "Is he being good?"

"He's my son. He's always being good."

"Yeah, you've definitely been hit in the head too many damn times." She listened to him laugh softly. "Alright, I'm gonna go, try to get some work done. Have fun."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

Hanging up, he flipped the envelope over in his hands a couple of times. He opened it, slipping out the lone piece of paper. It was an address. He smiled.

After all this time, he finally knew where Harold lived.

He almost missed the invitation on the back. With the upcoming Saturday's date and a time of six in the evening. And _Bring the family_ printed in Harold's script underneath.

Pocketing it, he rose, grabbed the stroller with his sleeping son, and headed out the door, grin still plastered on his face.

~End

Thanks for reading. :)


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